Barbara Blomberg — Complete eBook

“There is always the same annoyance where money
is concerned,” cried the Queen irritably, “in
spite of the vast sums which my Netherlands pour into
the treasury—­four times as much as Spain
supplies, including the gold and silver of the New
World. You keep it secret, but two fifths of
the revenue from all the countries over which Charles
reigns are contributed by my provinces. Torrents
of ducats inundate your treasury, and yet—­yet—­it’s
enough to drive one mad!—­in spite of this
and the lamentable parsimony with which the Emperor
deprives himself of both great and small pleasures—­it
is simply absurd!—­the story is always:
The finances are at the lowest ebb—­save
and save again. To protect the plumes in his
new cap from being injured by the rain, the sovereign
of half the world ordered an old hat to be brought,
and waited in the shower until the shabby felt came.
And where are the millions which this excellent economist
saves from his personal expenses? The dragon War
devours them all. True, he has vanquished foes
enough, but the demon of melancholy, that makes even
Dr. Mathys anxious, is far worse than the infidels
before whom you were compelled to retreat in Algiers—­far
more terrible than the Turks and heretics combined.
Yet what are you and the wise treasurer doing?
The idea of lessening the salaries of the physician-in-ordinary
and his colleagues has never entered the heads of
the estimable gentlemen who call themselves his Majesty’s
faithful servants. Very well! Then put the
musicians’ travelling expenses upon the apothecary’s
bill. They have as much right to be there as the
senna leaves. But, if the penny pinchers in the
council of finance refuse to advance the necessary
funds, why—­charge this medicine to my account.
I’ll pay for it, in spite of the numerous leeches
that suck my substance.”

“It certainly will not come to that, your Majesty,”
replied Quijada soothingly. “Our sovereign
lord knows, too, that it beseems him to be less rigid
in saving. Only yesterday he dipped into his purse
deeply enough for another remedy.”

“What was that?” asked the Queen in surprise.

“He paid the debts of my colleague Malfalconnet,
not less than ten thousand ducats.”

“There it is!” exclaimed the regent, striking
her hands sharply together. “The baron
dispels the Emperor’s melancholy by his ready
wit, which often hits the nail on the head, and his
nimble tongue, but my medicine must provide the fitting
mood for Malfalconnet’s dearly bought jests and
witticisms to exert the proper influence.”

“And, moreover,” Quijada added gaily,
“your Majesty will present the completed deed
for the treasurer’s action. But now I most
humbly entreat you to dismiss me. I must inform
the quartermasters at once, and look after the matter
myself if your Majesty’s costly magic pills are
not to be spoiled by this wet April weather.
Besides, many of the musicians are not the strongest
of men.”